The Mirror of Want

These bitches are cold
They run their lines
Like fishermen
They prowl along the banks
Casting their looks
like baited hooks
Twitching just beyond your reach
Light their cigarettes
Leaving you beached
And looking for more
Never enough
The ways of the whores
Break out your wallet
They’re hungry
Thirsty
Tired, sick.
Forget it
Tomorrow they’ll suck your dick
And tomorrow never comes
And neither do you
So you go back to
The banks
To try your luck again
But it ain’t a game you’ll win
Have your lighter and wallet
In hand
While you can’t stand
To be played
You’re ripe to be waylaid
Depends on how much you’ve paid
As to whether you’ll get laid.
Disgusting bitches are heartless
Romance has become artless
Starlets line up
As the bar lets out
Don’t wander far off
It’s cold in their hearts
Warm in your pocket
Hard in their hearts
Don’t think of your cock
They look at your watch
And what else they can hock
no surprise
You’re despised
A means to your own end
Don’t try to defend
You have your own agenda
And it’s near her rear
That you wish to end
You’re as guilty as sin
So don’t condemn her game
You wouldn’t be here
If you weren’t the same.
It’s lame
But you’re both to blame
If not in deed
In name
It’s a shame
Got her number
Forgot her name

~@yombo!